


Venor

by Daniella (wingblade)



Category: Demento | Haunting Ground
Genre: 100 Themes Challenge, Abuse, Angst, Cannibalism, Death, Gen, Horror, Minor Fiona Belli & Daniella, Minor Riccardo Belli & Daniella, Misogyny
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-15
Packaged: 2019-06-10 23:00:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15301920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingblade/pseuds/Daniella
Summary: Daniella has never viewed herself as anything significant. For as long as she can remember, Riccardo has made sure of this, with his harsh slaps and even harsher words.





	Venor

**Author's Note:**

> 100 Theme Challenge (variation one): 12. Insanity

Daniella has never viewed herself as anything significant. For as long as she can remember, Riccardo has made sure of this, with his harsh slaps and even harsher words.

" _You are nothing. Nothing, you hear me? Filthy, wretched woman."_

Daniella is a ghost within the halls of Belli Castle, her feet gliding across its floors with unsettling silence. Her sudden appearance at times seems to startle even Riccardo, who punishes her as he sees fit, and he "sees fit" quite often. But he cannot take away the water upon which she walks, her toes barely touching its surface as it ignores her presence. She knows the castle better than anyone, and who else would clean, cook, or mend the clothes?

In the silence, Daniella finds a strange peace: this is her home, more than anyone else's. There are watchers in the walls, oh yes; she has both seen and spoken with the lord of the estate through such means. His eyes do not see everything, however, nor could they ever aspire to. With rheumy eyes and a frail body, the esteemed lord sees little outside of his absurd pursuit of life eternal. There is at least one peephole for every main room, but most of them are strategically placed in areas intended for perversion, such as near beds or inside bathrooms, and especially close to bathtubs.

One section of the castle consists of homey rooms — bedrooms, the dining halls, kitchen, as well as various pantries and sitting rooms. Daniella finds herself here in the kitchen more often than not, cooking for the men above her. Sometimes she will cook and cook until Riccardo comes to pry her stiff hands from her stirring spoon. Riccardo will berate her as she looks down and sees the pot has been empty the whole time.

When Riccardo has satisfied his sadistic need to beat her, she wanders. After cooking, what else is there? Cleaning, perhaps. She makes her way to the spare bedroom overlooking the courtyard. It smells somewhat musty, so she throws open the windows and doors, letting in the night's cool air. She stands in front of the open door for what could be minutes or hours, her neck craned at an unnatural angle. Sometimes, there is no will to function. Sometimes, there is no will to live.

Outside of the spare bedroom is a stairwell that Daniella is sure lacks the castle's usual surveillance. There are no voices, no cracks or holes in the walls to hide cameras. It is a slice of the castle that remains wholly her own.

At the end of the stairway, after making a right, there is a small, doorless pantry. There are a few barrels of dried spices and herbs, and when pushed away from the mildewed wall, a hole can be seen. Large enough for Daniella to crawl through, it is her sanctuary; where not even Riccardo or her master can follow. It follows a straight path, then curves near the end. There, she can hear the floor creak above, although whether from feet, her pets, or something else entirely, she does not know.

Here, Daniella keeps what remains of Ayla Belli. Riccardo had gruffly instructed her to "dispose of the body," and she has — at least, in part. Some parts she made into a stew and fed to Ayla's dear daughter. The rest is here for her to enjoy.

_Blood. Flesh. Woman._

Although not much is left of Ayla to be considered as such — or at least not in the strictest definition of the word — Daniella still fondles the remains, dipping her fingers into the drying blood, brushing the flakes against her cheeks.

While not Azoth, for a short while, this body carried it within its womb. She can taste it in the blood; the only taste she has ever known. It is faded and dull, but it is delicious.

In the blood and flesh of the carrier — the mother — Daniella is somewhat appeased. She need only wait for the daughter to lower her guard, and then true euphoria will be hers.

This is her home, after all — and no one escapes.


End file.
